Port Royal and the apocalypse

In the middle of the pre-modern vs. post-modern conservative cage fight, James Poulos raises the following question (seconded by Samuel Goldman):

On what basis are we to judge whether our arrangements, compromises, and efforts are part of Larger Problems (the ubiquity of consumerism and a la carte-ism, the commodification of experience, the inauthenticity of performance, etc.)? And then what is to be done as a result?

Mr. Poulos, the master of the rhetorical walk-around (qui tacet consentit?), leaves his own bases uncovered. My own sense is that he is legitimately wary of any ultimate critique of our Whopper world. Any such critique, we might argue, would itself be a systemic fiction. To restate Poulos’ proposition: if we all live in Whopper world, can we live on the Front Porch and still be neighborly toward the vast majority of our fellow men. Does the Front Porch effectively alienate those who enjoy an occasional French Fried Latte? And can we systemically attack “modernity” without trafficking in another heinous meta-narrative which exists only in the abstract?

For my own part, I believe that the discussions which have swilled about at FPR over the past several months are at their finest when they are the most constructive. Ralph Hancock pointed out the arch-agrarian temptation to romanticize smallness, homegrown watermelon, and blood-orange Alabama sunsets. As a cubicle-dwelling son of suburbia, I am often drawn toward this ideal. And as Deneen himself has written, when you have no true place to call home, anything looks good (cf. O’Connor: better someplace than no place).

But granting all this, the desire to subvert modernity can blossom into its own over-realized, i.e. apocalyptic, substitute. This is the main danger to the Front Porch.

I have to acknowledge at this point that my critique here is not really an honest one. In the debate between the pomocons and the front porchers, I tend to associate myself with the latter. And so my charge of apocalypticism should really be viewed as a self-critique, since I doubt that Stegall, Deneen & Co. are as guilty as I am.

That said, I do think that “we” (if I may) are prone to apocalyptic critiques of modernity. We oppose capitalism, consumerism, and the colonies of suburbia — as I believe we ought — and we do so with definite answers pulled from other contexts (perhaps from history, or perhaps from Port Royal, Kentucky). But I believe that “community” can exist in some pretty inhospitable climates. Charity can survive within a repulsively capitalistic culture. Cul-de-sac communities can still throw block parties and Saturday afternoon BBQs. You can petition for mixed-use zoning in your own ex-urban township. I don’t think you can buy a good espresso at Starbucks, but I believe the paradigm holds nonetheless.

To sum up my rambling, I believe that both the pomocons and the FPR crowd are really standing on the same eschatological spot; but perhaps it’s easier to imagine the apocalypse from your front porch. Maybe we need to beware the temptatation to demand the final answers to Poulos’ Larger Problems any time soon (I imagine the diverse folks at FPR know that already). If we believe in smallness, we can believe in small changes, after all.